


in flaming fire, thou shalt take vengeance

by Mothervvoid



Series: Lamentations [2]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Despair, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, POV Second Person, Stream of Consciousness, no beta we die like l'manberg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:14:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28633818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mothervvoid/pseuds/Mothervvoid
Summary: ... burn, motherfucker, burn.or, a stream of consciousness that details the fact that Niki has had enough.
Series: Lamentations [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2113842
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	in flaming fire, thou shalt take vengeance

**Author's Note:**

> niki did nothing wrong.
> 
> okay im kidding but HOLY SHIT i wasnt expecting her to actually burn l'mantree. niki angst fans, come get yall juice.

There was a rarely spoken about theory that Wilbur Soot’s madness was contagious. That when he died, his blood soaked into the very foundations of L’manberg and salted the earth. When Philza Minecraft stabbed his son, he unwittingly released a virus that unspooled from Wilbur’s very being, infecting everything within L’manberg’s walls.

As you watch L’manberg go up in flames, you wonder about the possibility of it already being too late. Not too late for L’manberg, that thought had passed through your head hours ago. You mean your friends, your fellow citizens of L’manberg itself. You’ve all lived here for so long, long enough for the same madness that took Wilbur to worm its way inside of you and eat a place to sleep in your head. 

And it makes sense, everyone who has ever loved this place, truly loved it, with every fiber of their being, has eventually gone mad. Maybe Dream should have just put up those obsidian walls and waited for you all to kill each other.

You would have been okay with that, in the end. Everyone here deserved it. Even you. 

Even you, who burns the streets for Dream, who sets homes on fire while Technoblade cackles maniacally overhead. You feel their chaos and you feed off of it, you feel the ghost of Wilbur slink through the flames and whisper encouragement in your ear. There are tears in your eyes and on your cheeks, but you don’t weep with this place, you weep for yourself. You weep for the memories that you send up in smoke and fire. 

Even your friends, who stopped listening whether due to apathy or genuine lack of interest. Your friends who you'd do anything for, who somehow seemed to never tire of the endless cycle of fighting each other, and for what? What were you even fighting for? The thing Wilbur built this nation for was gone. Tommy's exile, the Butcher Army, the waking of a sleeping God, Tommy's return and the screaming matches that ensued; there was only so much you could take.

You hope there is nothing but scorched earth left behind when all of this is over. You hope there is bedrock, and lava and withers so nothing can rise up in L’manberg’s place. You hope The Blade get’s his ‘L’chunkerror’ and you hope that Dream fucks off after it’s all said and done. 

But despite the destruction, despite your help and the embers that fill the air like rain; there is a piece of L’manberg that remains. There will always be pieces that escape, pieces that worm their way through the stones and live in the infected dirt. But it was not those, it was not the infection that permeated the city like a miasma, nor was it the pieces of it that were lodged within you, permanently like a tattoo on your soul; but a tree. The L’mantree.

You could leave it be. You could leave your sabotage to helping Fundy destroy all the war supplies,and leaving your own burning trail of destruction through the city; but you don’t want to leave it be. You’re _tired_. Tired of this place, the people, the betrayal and never ending cycle of reprisal.

You want to hurt. You want people to feel this hurt.

As you raise the lighter to the branches, you finally understand what made Wilbur press that button. Exhaustion, not of the body, but of the soul. A fatigue so deep it reached the bedrock of his being and he wanted everything to be _over_. And so do you.

You’re so very tired.

You give a salute as L’mantree slowly goes up in flame, fire slowly eating the tree like L’manberg slowly sapped your sanity. It just feels right. One final send off for a nation that has done nothing but corrupt the minds of everyone who's ever set foot on it’s tainted soil.

Maybe now people will listen to what you have to say. With a smile, you unknowingly echo the words of a traitor and a madman.

“It was never meant to be.”


End file.
